Florida's Adventures on the Friendship Ship
by RyoseiHime
Summary: A collection of oneshots starring Agent Florida and his interactions with other Freelancer Agents. These are primarily practice for me. To help get a grip on Florida's personality as well as that of the others.
1. Bullshit

"This is bullshit!" South cried throwing her helmet.

It ricocheted off the ship's wall and hit her foot. South was still suited up but you wouldn't have known by her reaction. She screamed like a raging grizzly bear and kicked the helmet as hard as she could. A few in the locker room tried to pretend they didn't notice. South's tantrums were becoming the norm. They had discovered that it was far easier to let her rage burn itself out. For their own benefit as well as South's. The only one who dared bother her at this point was North. Well, North and one less welcomed individual.

Florida pulled his own helmet off to place it in his locker as the young woman screamed. He calmly removed his bandolier as well, hanging it off a hook on the door. He smiled and the sincerity of it stretched all the way to his big brown eyes. South was squeezing the helmet between her hands when he approached. Her eyes were shut tight and her face twisted into an image of pure frustration. He clapped a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Wash, watching from his locker, practically flinched.

South's eyes snapped open and the helmet hit the floor again as her arm flew out, knocking Florida's away. His smile persisted in spite of South's reaction. That pissed her off more than anything. Nothing could wipe that fucking smile off his face. Her eyes narrowed and her voice came out low and threatening.

"You wanna keep that arm, keep it to yourself."

"There's no need to be so defensive, South Dakota. Why don't you tell me why you're so upset?"

"Why am I upset? Where do you live?" South shouted. "Since day one, day-fucking-one, that _bitch_ knocked us all down a peg! She gets special treatment! It's not fair!"

South kicked her helmet again, and it hit the locker across from her own. Florida didn't react. He kept his focus on South Dakota's face. She hated that, too. He just kept staring straight at you. He didn't have the decency to look away. South's eyes darted to the unused locker of the target of her rage to avoid Florida's stare.

"Texas worked her way up the ladder like everyone else. She certainly kicked my butt in training enough times," he added with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't really say much, does it number ten?" South shot back, meeting his eyes again.

She was daring him. She could use a fight right now. But he just ran a hand through his jet black hair, and his smile turned a bit lopsided. He knew she was trying to bait him, and it was almost adorable. South Dakota was like a child. Maybe that's why he approached her when any other soldier let her tantrums pan out.

"South, you're worth isn't equated to your rank." Florida's voice was soothing. It came across as condescending to South. "We're all a team here. No one's competing."

"Bullshit."

She spat it at him. The word was meant to be a punch in the gut. It had its on physical presence. It hung around in the room long after she gave birth to it. Later, Connie would give that presence new life. After a long stare, South pushed past Florida, bumping his shoulder roughly, and retrieved her helmet. It hung lazily from two fingers as she swaggered away. Florida sighed, but when he turned to Wash, a smile still split his face.

"Join me for lunch?"


	2. We Lost Rhode Island

North rapped on the wall before entering the rec room. He knew Florida was there and the place wasn't exactly private, but all things considered, North thought he'd at least alert the other man to his presence. Florida was sitting on the edge of a chair with a book in his hands. His head was down, which concerned North a little. He couldn't recall seeing that before. Florida hadn't reacted to his knock either.

"I heard you had a rough mission."

"We lost Rhode Island."

Florida's voice was matter of fact. There didn't seem to be a bit of regret or pain hidden there. But there was a shift in the way the blue soldier held himself when he spoke. His posture became stiffer.

"I'm sorry to hear that," North replied. And he had been the first time he'd heard it as well. "She was a good soldier."

Florida closed the book, fingers sliding over the cover tenderly. North couldn't help but watch them. They dripped off the edge and Florida finally raised his head. North's eyes rose to meet Florida's. The smile on his face didn't reach all the way there like it usually did.

"She'll want this for her trip," Florida replied. "Will you take it to command for me, North?"

"Sure."

Florida handed the book to North as he stood. The happy-go-lucky soldier's legs looked heavy without their usual bounce. He moved passed, patting North's shoulder as he went.

"Thanks, buddy."


	3. Keep Smiling Connie

Connie finished removing her armor and was just on her way out of the locker room when she spotted Florida standing in a corner. She wouldn't have given it a second thought normally, but there was something off about how the man held himself. On closer inspection his eyes were blank and unmoving. Connie stepped up to him, and Florida jerked. He drew his pistol immediately and by the time the barrel lined up with Connie's face, her own landed on his.

"Oh, Connecticut," Florida sighed, lowering his pistol. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I was worried." Connie replied, following suit. "What were you doing?"

"My last mission proved to be just a bit taxing. I didn't think anyone would mind if I took a little nap here."

"Do you normally sleep this way?" Connie asked, holstering her weapon.

"I find it pays to be prepared to move at a moment's notice. But I guess it doesn't stop someone from sneaking up on me."

Florida chuckled and Connie shook her head with a smile. She wasn't very close with Florida, but he seemed pleasant enough if not a bit odd.

"Sorry to wake you, then."

"No worries, Connie. I have another mission soon."

"Already? You've been busy lately."

"I'm here to serve," Florida replied, stretching. "I'm happy to go on as many missions as it takes. Nothing's more important to me than the safety of my teammates."

Connie knew that Florida worked more closely with Intel, but she never knew exactly what he did on his missions. She had never really thought about it, so she'd never drawn the line between his position and her own. In fact, his position made him closer to the Director. If anything, this had made her wary of him. She was still wary.

"I guess I should thank you then."

"No need. But I'll take a smile instead if you have any to spare."

Connie gave him a small smile. He was making her uncomfortable. His jovial nature was too much of a contrast to their environment. In the grey world they inhabited, Florida splashed across the backdrop in a bright blue. By comparison the rest of it became all the grey-er.

"Keep smiling, Connie," Florida said as he picked his helmet up from the floor. "It suits you."

He put the helmet on and walked away. Connie felt better once he had disappeared.


	4. Tag, You're It

Florida slowly inched around corner, carefully taking a peek around the building. There were structures spread out around the compound that made good hiding places, but moving from one to the other would leave him open to fire. He needed to find a better place before he was spotted. He turned his focus back to his current location. Beyond the shack on the outskirts, there were trees. They were his best bet from here. He made a dash for cover and disappeared up the nearest tree. Now, if he could follow the tree line back around the edge of the grounds, he could obtain his objective and get out before taking another blow. He touched the splash of red across his ribs softly. It didn't look good. Sure, he could survive this sort of hit, but he knew his opponent. He couldn't afford giving the man another opportunity. Time to get on the move. He hurried along the tree tops, hopping from one branch to another when possible. The trees barely made a rustle.

He started getting a little lax with his stealth after a few minutes. If the enemy hadn't spotted him yet it meant they were waiting for him at the base. His target was stationary. They knew he had to come back eventually. When he got within range of the building, he hung back in a tree, searching for signs of movement. Florida knew the sniper was out there somewhere, but he couldn't spot him. Not from here. He dropped to the ground silently, gun pulled as he turned his head from side to side. It appeared clear. Too bad most of the functions in his helmet were out of commission. Motion trackers would be nice right about now.

The building in the center of the base was out in the open. There was no way to get there from where he was without exposing himself. He darted along in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, trying to find a way, but it was bright out. There was just no subtle way to do this. Just as Florida was prepared to make a dash for it, he heard a click. He swung around and turned his gun on the nearest building blindly. Before he could get his shot off, Florida's head snapped back. Red filled his visor, and he fell to the ground.

"Tag, mate. You're it," a familiar voice drawled.

Florida laughed, listening for Wyoming's steps as they grew closer. He reached a hand out and found the other Freelancer's. With a pull, Wyoming set Florida upright again and the blue soldier removed his helmet.

"Great shot, as usual, buddy," Florida chirped, turning the helmet around to investigate the paint splatter. "Right between the eyes."

Wyoming slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder and pulled his own helmet off, revealing a cocky smirk.

"Yes, well, if you sat still for five seconds, perhaps I'd have beat my best time. Like a blasted squirrel up there."

Florida laughed and tucked his helmet under his arm.

"Nothing makes a man feel down when he's that high up," he responded, slapping Wyoming's shoulder with the back of his hand. "I believe this means I owe you lunch."

"Know anyplace with a vintage wine?" Wyoming asked as they headed back to their pickup destination.

"Oh, I think the cafeteria manager could be convinced with a little well-earned flattery. She changed her hair recently, did you notice?"

"Can't say I have."

Florida went on, all smiles.


End file.
